Maybe she hasn't. Or maybe she's been made to take something. I doubted her behavior was a coincidence, given the reason we were here.
I rounded the corner of the first house and headed for the front door of the second. The security door was thick and heavy, just like the bars on the windows. I twisted the handle and it opened, as did the wooden front door. My stomach began to churn. This was way too easy.
Possibly, Azriel said, and it took me a mental moment to remember what he was replying to.
What about the man and the child in that house? Are they okay? I pushed the door open with my fingertips. The air inside was fresh and cool, and ran with the scent of femininity.
They sleep. He paused. Deeply.
Something in the way he said that had me looking around before I remembered he wasn't actually visible. What do you mean?
Just that it does not appear to be a natural form of sleep.
So they're all drugged up? I took a cautious step inside.
I do not know much about drugs, but as I have said, this sleep is not natural.
And he didn't like it, which no doubt meant there was something wrong. Something we should check out.
I stopped just inside the door, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as my gaze swept the room. The furnishings—though sparse—were of good quality. The main living area was L-shaped, with a kitchen tucked in the shorter end of the room. There was a hallway to my right, with a number of doors leading off it.
I couldn't see anything out of place, nor could I hear anything or anyone. Which I guess wasn't surprising; Azriel had already said there was no one here. I flexed my fingers, then headed into the hallway. A quick check revealed two bedrooms—one messier than the other—a bathroom, and a small laundry with a door leading out into an even smaller courtyard. There was nothing odd to be found, and no sense that Vonda had, in any way, feared for her life.
But then, neither had Dorothy Hendricks, and our hunter had been bleeding her to death here while burning a brand into her forehead on the astral plane.
I retreated back through the living room and went into the kitchen. It was small, neat, and filled with the latest in cookware—which was an odd thing for a vampire to have.
I crossed my arms and walked over to the front window, staring at the back of the first house. The back door was ajar and there was no security or wire door in place. Which seemed odd with a small child in the house, even if he was asleep.